


Introjection

by Anonymous_ID



Series: Bad!Sam [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Bad Decisions, Consensual Underage Sex, Doctor/Patient, M/M, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_ID/pseuds/Anonymous_ID
Summary: This is a sequel to 'Acting In' (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13586781?view_full_work=true) and Countertransference (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048307?view_full_work=true). Like those, it involves Sam as a mental health professional who makes the moves on his unspecified-teenage sort-of patient, Dean Smith. Please read all the tags and warning; it may help to read the early stories first, but one is mostly porn, so I'm sure you can keep up.  first. I know nothing about therapy or psychology, except that Sam is, of course, being utterly unprofessional.As with the rest of this series, I have tagged it as rape/noncon due to the age of the participants, rather than to any explicit non-consensual actions, but you are warned!





	Introjection

**Author's Note:**

> The non-con is due more to Dean's age (unspecified teenager) than anything explicit, but Sam is still in a position of power so this is potentially TRIGGERING.

“Wait—wait!” Dean gasps and Sam groans in frustration.  He’s got the lanky teenager sprawled on his lap, naked as the day he was born, with two thick fingers working lube into his ass.  In other words, Dean Smith is just where he’s begged to be for weeks.  And _now_ he wants to wait?

“What?” Sam tries to reign in his frustration.  Sam had initially planned to take the kid to a hotel; maybe the one a few blocks away where his classmates are still at the prom after-party.  He liked the symmetry of that idea, had liked the idea of making tonight special.  But Dean had been too touch-hungry and impatient. His prom date's car had barely pulled away from the curb when he had turned away from Sam's office window and started stripping off his disheveled suit.

Now Dean looks up at Sam, green eyes large and sober next to his sinfully kiss-swollen mouth. “I liked it,” he says, biting his lip. “I liked.  Uhm, with Jo?”

“I know.”  Sam replies. _I watched you_ , he wants to say, _I saw you fuck her, saw you cum. You were delicious_.

But Dean is just trying to be honest.  Doesn’t want Sam to think he’s the one and only.  It’s kinda cute.

“You liked it?  Like fucking her?” asks Sam, gently.

Dean’s cheeks grow pinker at Sam's word-choice, but he nods.

“Good,” Sam says. 

Dean huffs a startled laugh.  He hadn’t been expecting _that_ answer.

Sam shifts Dean into the corner of his office chaise and leans in to share a secret: “I hoped you'd like it.  I _want_ you to like it.”

“I like…” Sam kisses the edge of Dean’s jaw, easing the boy over until he is on his knees, chest against the rolled arm of the chaise.  “I like fucking my wife.”

He mouths his way down Dean's spine.  “I like how wet she gets. Was Jo...?”

“Uh-huh,” pants Dean, too aroused to be embarrassed any longer.

Teeth on Dean’s ass, a gentle bite.  “I like the noises she makes.”

This whole time, he’s had his two well-lubed fingertips stroking Dean’s perineum, going rhythmically from under his tight balls  to down around his puckered hole, then back again. When he pinches Dean’s nipple with his free hand, the kid open right up.  He’s clean and ready—and they’ve talked about this, but Sam still burns at the thought that Dean had prepped himself at some point before he’d gotten dressed to meet Jo for the prom.

“I like…how deep I go inside her,” Sam illustrates with his fingers, going in so deeply that he can tap the rough spot that is Dean’s little prostate. The kid’s little cock—spent once inside Jo, and once right down Sam’s throat before he’d even fully undressed—twitches against his belly.  Fucking teenagers!

Sam tugs Dean’s hair until the kid has his head pillowed on he armrest and is looking right at him.  Dean has been begging for Sam’s cock for weeks—teasing, pleading, pouting when Sam has fobbed him off with handjobs and blowjobs, fingers and toys. But there’s wanting and then there’s _wanting_. “I wanna go that deep inside you.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, licking his lips. Sam is kneeling next to the chaise, so he prizes Dean’s fingers off the edge where they’re gripping the leather and wraps them around his own blood-hard cock.  He’s not small, and he’s not stopping once he starts.  Dean should know that.

“Yes, yes, please, yeah!”  It’s a whine this time, desperate, and Dean slides one leg off the chaise, opening himself.

Dean moans and pants and _takes_ him, inch by inch. By the time Sam gets his whole cock inside, Dean is draped bonelessly over the arm of the chaise, mumbling unthinkingly. 

“What’s that?” asks Sam.  He kisses Dean’s shoulder. 

“So big,” Dean manages.

“But you took me so well, sweetheart…” Sam only uses endearments when he’s trying to reward Dean for being particularly good.  Or, like now, when he’s about to ask for something significant.

“Dean?”

“Ungh?”

Sam steals a kiss from Dean’s slack lips.  Dean opens his dazed eyes and smiles.

“Dean, feel so good.  Gotta move.”

“Nooo…”  Dean’s eyes drift closed again.  He’s full and floating on a cloud of endorphins, his little cock half-hard again despite his previous orgasms and the shock of being penetrated.

“I _need_ to, baby.”  He has one knee wedged between Dean’s lax body and the back of the chaise, the other resting on the floor.  It gives him a lot of leverage. “You know how good your girl felt?  How you just had to be inside her?”  Sam bends his knee just a little, slips out and the nudges back in. Dean gasps.

“Okay, okay.  Just.  Gimme kiss.”

Sam barely has to stretch his neck to comply:  Dean’s so much smaller than he is, in his fucked-out flexible state. “Oh, my li’l romantic,” he mumbles, remembering how Dean had wanted t sit in his lap during their first experiment.

Dean opens his mouth to deny it, but Sam is already withdrawing for his first deep thrust and that punches all the boy’s air right out of him.  Sam gets one hand under Dean to help him keep his balance.  With his broad palm tucked up on Dean’s lower belly, he can feel the motion of his own thick cock transmitted through Dean's bony hips.

“Push back a little, sweets,” Sam coaxes.

“I can’t, I can’t,” chants Dean breathlessly, even as he gets his knees under him and arches back like the most experienced of whores. 

Dean takes nine more slow, achingly deep thrusts—Sam is counting—before his thighs start to tremble and his hole starts to pulse.  Another two and he’s cumming dry, his slender body spasming so hard Sam has to brace himself against the chaise.

The boy is nearly catatonic afterwards, eyes rolling in his head. It’s nothing for Sam to roll him over and push back into his clenching hole. There’s a reddened line bisecting his chest where he’s been rubbed against the rolled arm of the chaise. Sam wants to touch him there, but his coordination is shot.  He can feel his own climax throbbing along his spine, tingling in each extremity.  Dean may look nearly concussed, but his tight little body is still responding. Sam chuckles: this little virgin is going to milk him dry. 

“Gonna cum in you.”

Dean mumbles and nods, hips bouncing with Sam’s greedy thrusts. 

“Gonna…like you came in your girl,” growls Sam.  Dean somehow gathers the coordination to slap his arm over Sam’s shoulder and pull him close. The last thing Sam remembers before his orgasm sets his senses on fire is Dean pressing a nipple into his mouth.

 

Dean is so comfortably worn out that he actually snoozes a little, Sam stretched over him like a warm blanket, suckling lazily until his cock slips free.  When he tries to move, though, Dean's long legs hitch up around his hips. "Stay," he breathes sleepily.

"So," Sam asks, when it's finally time to think about gathering their scattered clothing.  (The practice's high-end clientele insist on absolute discretion, so Sam isn't worried about cameras or recording devices.  But they also insist on impeccable cleanliness, so there's the custodial staff to consider). "So, did you...?"

"Enjoy myself? Oh, yeah,"  Dean stretches sinfully. “But, next time? We’re doing this in a bed.”

And they do.  


End file.
